


in the space above my throat

by jessicawhitly



Category: New Amsterdam (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 14:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: “You’re not her mother, Helen!” his words are sharp, and she feels them cut through her like knives, each one settling in a different place in her heart. The hurt must show on her face despite her best effort, and regret shines through in Max’s eyes, though he remains silent.“Right,” is all she says, swallowing hard. “I’m not anyone’s mother.”





	in the space above my throat

**Author's Note:**

> Jess gave me permission to further fic her text post here (https://professortennant.tumblr.com/post/187984293010/i-wanna-see-helen-helping-max-with-the-baby-and) and it blossomed into this...thing! It's my first time writing Max/Helen, and I hope I did them justice.

It had all started with a text from Max asking her to bring diapers because Luna was sick and he hadn’t wanted to leave the apartment.

Helen had found herself over at the Goodwins’ more than she’d ever imagined during the last few months, helping Max with Luna or bringing dinner to share or consulting about something from the hospital whenever he needed a sounding board or simply a willing listening ear. As the weeks had ticked by, she’d found herself falling further and further into a tangled web of emotions as Luna began to greet her happily with baby giggles and grabby hands nearly every time she walked through the door, and Max’s smile simply grew wider and warmer and more welcoming.

That night, though, the little girl was clearly miserable, and Max’s mood wasn’t much better. He’d left the hospital early that day when Luna had gotten sick, and Helen had barely seen him.

Luna’s cries are high and pained, tears leaking down her cheeks as Max paces the room with her, rubbing her back gently and attempting to shush her. She sets the bags with the diapers down on the table, and shrugs out of her coat before starting to make her way over to the pair.

“Max, why don’t I take-” Helen starts to say, and Max turns to her, cradling the back of his daughter’s head.

“You’re not her mother, Helen!” his words are sharp, and she feels them cut through her like knives, each one settling in a different place in her heart. The hurt must show on her face despite her best effort, and regret shines through in Max’s eyes, though he remains silent.

“Right,” is all she says, swallowing hard. “I’m not anyone’s mother.”

Her response lands, because Max’s gaze drops to the floor. She picks up her coat, shrugging into it, and then slips her purse over her shoulder. She ignores Max’s eyes, and crosses the room until she can press her lips to the back of Luna’s head.

“Feel better, sweet girl,” she murmurs, and as she steps back, Max’s voice pulls her eyes back upwards.

“Helen, wait,” he starts, and she turns, heading for the door, fingers clenching around the strap of her purse. “Please, Sharpe, don’t go, I didn’t mean-”

“Goodnight, Max,” Helen cuts him off, and then shuts the door with a soft click behind her before leaning back against it, closing her eyes against the hot sting of tears before they can slip down her cheeks.

_

Her phone chimes for the fourth time within an hour, and she ignores it, continuing to type away at the report dominating her computer screen.

“Guess that answers the question of if you’re getting my messages,” Helen’s shoulders tighten at the voice in the doorway, and she keeps her eyes on the screen.

“Dr. Goodwin,” she replies, her voice cool and even as Max lingers in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. “Something I can help you with?”

“Helen,” his soft utterance of her name causes her to finally look up, and she bites the inside of her cheek hard at the sheer puppy dog look in his eyes.

“What, Max?” she asks, allowing some of the exhaustion to leak into her voice as her shoulders fall. It had been nearly three weeks since the incident, and she’d done everything in her power to stay out of Max’s way while at work. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss her evenings spent with him and Luna- that she didn’t miss the feeling of Luna’s tiny hands against her cheeks and the way she’d tuck little head under her chin as she drifted off to sleep.

“Luna misses you,” he tells her and Helen closes her eyes, fingers coming up to rub at the bridge of her nose.

“That isn’t fair,” she says, shaking her head, and Max takes another step closer, only a foot from her desk now.

“I’m sorry, Helen. I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he starts, and Helen pushes herself into a standing position, clearing her throat.

“Nothing you said was untrue,” she replies, and begins to gather her things from her desk. “You don’t have to feel sorry for being honest.”

“But I was cruel,” she stops at the hand that slides around her forearm, warm against her skin. “And it isn’t just Luna that misses you.”

“Max…” Helen whispers, raising her gaze back to Max’s- finds blue eyes scanning her face and the most earnest expression she’s ever seen twisting his lips. “That isn’t fair.”

“Then I’m not fighting fair,” Max replies, voice soft, and Helen finds the wall she’d erected around her heart beginning to crumble. “I’m sorry, Helen. Maybe you aren’t Luna’s mother, but you _are_ an important part of her life, and we both need you. Please come back.”

“I can’t live in this…limbo space, Max,” she finally says, blinking up at him. “I need to know my place in all this. So I know when I’m- when I’m overstepping. With you and with Luna.”

She can’t help the way her breath catches at the touch of his fingertips against her jaw, heart skipping in her chest so prominently she’s sure he can feel it in the vein in her neck. His thumb is gentle against her lower lip, and she fights against the sigh that bubbles up.

“We’ll figure all this out. Together. I’m still trying to balance everything, but I do know I can’t lose you,” Max’s voice is soft, and Helen’s hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, thumb against his pulse point. “The last three weeks have been miserable. I’m tired of living like this.”

Helen studies his face, eyes scanning the tired lines around his eyes and the pink of his lips and warmth pools in her belly, blossoming across her skin at the stroke of his thumb.

“Together,” she murmurs, and can’t help but smile at the grin that blooms across Max’s face.

“Together,” he repeats, pressing his forehead against hers, and the laugh Helen lets out echoes into the hallway, spilling out like sunlight.


End file.
